Tales From the Bentley
by anthfan
Summary: A collection of unconnected stories that focus on tropes involving cars. All Olicity. Can be considered a sub-series of my 'Tropes' stories.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: SURPRISE! Apparently I'm starting a new Tropes series. Who knew there was a whole sub-section of tropes just about cars?! Well, there are. So welcome to the first chapter. These will be standalone chapters much like my 'Tropes' series. 27hope is responsible for all of this. I blame her. **

The mission had gone amazingly well, until they'd gotten waylaid leaving the high-rise office building. Oliver had sent Digg ahead to put the car in place only a few moments before a surprise security shift change occurred trapping Felicity and Oliver inside.

Twenty minutes later, with her calves cramping and sweat dripping down her back because she'd been forced to crouch in a tight space with Oliver in head to toe leather right behind her, Felicity was feeling the cool night air on her face as they sprinted across an empty lot.

As Oliver wrenched open the door to the parking garage she could hear him explaining their delay to Digg. "Pop the trunk!" he ordered, as she glanced around to see if she'd need to hack any security feeds later and destroy evidence.

The soles of her sensible flats slapped against the concrete, and when they came around the corner she saw Digg already standing by the back of the car.

"You've got ten minutes to get changed and get inside," he cautioned pointlessly and Oliver just growled in exasperation as he threw the bow in the trunk along with his quiver.

Felicity placed her tablet inside and grabbed two garment bags, "Let's go. We'll change in the back,"

The original plan had been to take turns changing in the back of the car, but with their delay they now didn't have that luxury. Oliver was supposed to be giving the keynote address at a dinner that should secure him the money needed to finally buy out Isabel Rochev. They couldn't be late.

"Felicity-"

"Oliver! There's no time for modesty here. Really? You? Mister walks around without a shirt on half the time has a problem with changing in front of me?" she said in a hissed whisper as she shoved a garment bag in his arms and made her way around the other side of the car, "I'll promise not to look!" she shot over the roof and then climbed in, already kicking off her shoes.

A second later Oliver joined her, "Let's go, Digg,"

However, all her bravado began to fail her the moment she looked to her left to see Oliver quickly untying his boots, because she knew the leather pants would be next.

Swallowing heavily she took a deep breath and began to unbutton her blouse, trying to keep herself upright as Digg took the turns of the garage a little quicker than she would have liked.

"You gave me the wrong bag."

"What?"

"Blue sequins...not mine." he said and she finished slipping one arm out of her sleeve before she reached forward and grabbed the bag she had. When she looked over to hand it to him he was resolutely looking at the ceiling, which made her face flush pink.

"Here! Take it!" she ordered, louder than she had intended as they traded bags,

With her back mostly to him again she tried to concentrate on what she needed to do. She tugged the blouse off her other arm and shoved it behind her while she deftly undid the zipper at her waist and lifted her hips to pull her skirt down. Unfortunately she did it just as Digg hung another curve and she was thrown back into Oliver.

Her naked back hit his naked front and they both sucked air in through their teeth as his hand settled around her waist trying to keep her from falling to the floor.

"Digg!" they shouted in unison as she tried to pull herself up and away from Oliver even though her skin felt on fire wherever he'd touched her.

Now vowing to never look at him ever again she tried to calm her pounding heart as she slid her skirt off her legs and reached for the garment bag.

The dress was long, blue organza overlaying a brocade satin with virtually no back, just one thin strap that connected one shoulder to the other, the front dipping in a V that showed just enough, along with a slit that opened and flowed when she walked. It was going to be a bitch to get on in the backseat of the Bentley.

With a resigned sigh she found the bottom hem and lifted it over her head, feeling Oliver shift and move around beside her, the tail of his dress shirt just skimming her side as he angled to put it on.

Her elbow caught his shoulder and she called out a muffled 'sorry' as she tried to wriggle her hands and head through the correct spaces. For a second she felt trapped as the unforgiving fabric refused to budge. Her left arm was trapped tight against her ear and the other was twisted in front of her face as she tried to shift the dress without ripping a seam.

Then suddenly everything was pulled down in one swift movement and her head popped out of the top, one arm free. Her head swiveled left to see Oliver working on the buttons of his shirt. "Thanks," she said, almost breathlessly as she got the other arm through.

She knew her face was flushed. Partly from the combination of the effort she'd previously exerted and was still exerting, and partly because of Oliver.

"Digg, any chance we could get some air back here?" she called as she reached behind her and undid her bra. The dress wouldn't allow her to wear one.

"Getting a little hot back there?" he asked, grin in his tone.

With a growl she pulled the final strap free and tossed the garment at his head.

"Hey!" he shouted, holding it up with one finger from where it had landed draped over his shoulder, "No throwing projectile lingerie at the driver,"

Oliver's head shot up at that from where he'd been pulling on dress socks, and she couldn't help the smirk she gave him.

The strap that connected one shoulder to the other on her dress was proving to be too difficult to do by herself and after wasting thirty seconds she didn't have she turned with a huff and present her back to Oliver, "A little help please,"

Shivers shot down her spine as she felt his fingers brush against her skin as he caught the strap on one side and pulled it across to the other. "There's a tiny hook, under the left strap...it's one of those really small things that you can never find when you're doing it by touch. You've got big hands, it must be impossible to hold onto that thing, it's always slipping out of my grasp and-" her words choked off as his fingers wrapped around her shoulder to keep her still,

"Got it," he said, voice lower than she expected it to be and she swore it felt like his hand dragged over her skin as it fell away,

"Than...thanks," she gulped out,

She fished her heels out of the bottom of the bag along with a small make up case. The ponytail she was currently wearing wasn't going to cut it at the dinner so she pulled the holder from her hair and turned to see Oliver looking unfairly gorgeous.

He had managed to get his shirt tucked in and his suspenders up, but his bow tie still lay loose around his neck and he was struggling with his cufflinks.

"Need a hand?" she asked and his eyes flashed up.

She realized with a start they looked like they were at the end of the night instead of at the beginning. A passing car cast headlights inside and her stomach flipped when she saw the way his eyes had darkened.

"You, uh...you keep working on the cufflinks, I'll do the bow tie," she stated and leaned in. She'd tied his ties before, more than once, but they'd always been standing and there had never been this much charge in the air between them before.

As she concentrated on her task she pulled herself closer towards him, hitching up the material of her skirt so she could plant one knee on the seat next to his thigh. A strange garbled noise came from his throat and she paused before she dismissed it, assuming it was just Oliver getting frustrated at his cufflinks.

Trying to work quickly she rested her left forearm against his chest to brace as she quickly made a respectable bow. His arms stretched around her as he craned his head over her back in an attempt to see what he was doing.

When she was finished she realized his hands were resting at her waist to steady her and her face was only a few inches from his. She could feel his breath as he exhaled and couldn't help it when she nervously licked her lips. His eyes darted down and then back up and a warmth filled her belly.

"Three minutes!" Digg called out from the front and she jerked backwards, almost knocking her head on the ceiling as she scrambled to get back on her side of the seat.

"Oh my god, I still have to do my hair!" she exclaimed, almost upending the makeup bag next to her. "Here, take these," she said to Oliver, dumping a handful of bobby pins into his hastily offered hands as she tugged a brush through her hair and began to gather it into what she hoped was a stylish but slightly messy updo.

She poked pins in at random, taking from the pile in Oliver's hands until she felt it was secure. Felicity gave a little shake of her head, hands held out like she was afraid it was going to fall apart. "Look okay?"

He gave her a small nod and she dug through the bag again, looking for her lipstick. There wasn't enough time to put a full face on, so she'd have to settle for a bright lip and hope no one noticed.

"Digg, I swear to god if you don't drive the next twenty seconds as smooth as possible you'll be getting nothing but spam sent to your email for the next month." she warned as she twisted the tube to expose a rich dark pink.

Digg came through and she successfully applied the color with no mishap.

"Hang on," Oliver said suddenly and she froze as she felt him carefully push a pin into her hair. "There was one part sticking out…"

"Thanks," she said almost hoarsely, the idea that Oliver had just stuck a bobby pin into her hair was almost more than she could handle.

She cleared her throat and shoved the loose items back into the makeup bag, "Okay...shoes," she spoke to herself as she slid on the four inch black peep toes, "Hair is done, face is done...clutch! Where's my clutch?" she said frantic as she looked all around,

"Here," Oliver said calmly, reaching around her to place the beaded bag in her lap,

"My hero," she slipped her lipstick inside and turned to give him a once over, reaching up to fix his collar where it lay a bit crooked. His hand caught her wrist and her chest hitched as he slowly dragged his thumb over her pulse point,

"You'll save me a dance later?" it was more statement than question and said so low she knew Digg couldn't hear him,

Her heart fluttered, and she found she couldn't look away, "Of course," she murmured and then the car was coming to a stop and he dropped her arm.

"We're here. You two ready?" Digg called out before he opened his door,

Nine minutes and forty two seconds after they'd pulled out of the parking garage Oliver Queen and Felicity Smoak exited the chauffeured luxury car looking as if they'd had all evening to get ready.

Oliver held his hand out for her which she took gratefully, discretely tugging at her skirt so that it would lay correctly when she stood. As soon as she was outside the car she adjusted his tie and smoothed his lapel, accepting the small squeeze of his hand as a gesture of thanks.

The keynote address went off without a hitch, and by the end of the night Oliver had shook enough hands to know they'd raised the capital needed to buy back Isabel's shares at a price she couldn't afford to refuse.

Felicity stayed on the sidelines most of the night, happy to do what she could to facilitate a win for the company and for Oliver. He'd search her out as he worked the room, and she'd always know when he was looking for her because her skin would tingle. As the event was winding down he found her in a corner drinking champagne. She raised the flute as he approached and gave him a wide smile, "Congratulations, Mr. Queen,"

He let out a long sigh and let his shoulders droop, the action making her heart flip just a little because she knew he'd never let anyone else see him like that. "I couldn't have done it without you," he said as he stole the glass from her and finished the drink in one swallow. Before she could sputter a protest he'd taken her hand in his and gave her a tug, "I believe you promised me a dance,"

"Oliver...you don't have to," she said quietly,

"I want to," he whispered into her ear and she knew he felt the shudder that went through her at his words,

They danced five songs straight, closing out the orchestra, but she didn't notice and he didn't either. One of his hands seemed determined to discover in great detail every bit of bare skin her dress exposed.

His palm was hot against her, causing tendrils of warmth to spread outwards, flowing over the surface of her skin and ending at her center. His other hand had begun to draw tiny, swirling designs along her neck and jaw, occasionally dipping down to the hollow of her throat or along her collarbone. All she could do was hold tightly to his arms and let her head rest against his shoulder as the sensations threatened to overwhelm her.

She didn't question his actions. Everything had collapsed down to nothing but feel. She could feel their bond, their connection, their strength, and what was happening between them just felt like the natural progression of what they had started to cultivate all those months ago.

When he told Digg to drop them both off at her place there was a tense twenty second standoff where the two men locked eyes and had a silent conversation before Digg slid his gaze to her and she nodded once.

Oliver's hand found her back again as they rode the elevator up to her floor in silence and by the time they reached her door she was practically vibrating with the need to kiss him.

Her hands shook as she got the key in the lock and as soon as they were inside she had him pushed against the wall.

It didn't take anywhere near nine minutes for them to get undressed.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks for such an awesome response to the first car trope! Just a reminder these tropes are each standalone stories and are not connected to each other. Hope you like this trope, it's an angsty/dramatic one. Enjoy, and let me know what you think! **

A car chase through mostly empty back country roads is not how Oliver expected they'd be spending their Wednesday afternoon. However, as one hand held tight to the seat ahead of him and he used the other to keep Felicity pinned down while looking over his shoulder at the black Mercedes only half a car length behind them he was acutely aware of how infrequently his life went the way he expected it to.

They'd been on their way back into the city when the small caravan had dropped in to follow. Three cars. All identical.

It was Digg who had spotted them first. The tense way he'd called Oliver's name had him instantly on alert, Felicity's wide eyes swiveling between the two men as she stilled with her hand hovering over her tablet.

"Can you lose them?" Oliver had asked tightly only to receive a grunt from Digg. On two lane roads there was no traffic or side streets to get lost in.

Their speed increased and the cars in the rearview matched the acceleration.

"Any idea who they are?" Digg asked, eyes flitting constantly between the road ahead and the mirror.

"Could be anyone,"

"License plate?" Felicity asked, voice only slightly wavery, and he flashed his eyes down to see she'd already pulled up the DMV database,

"No plates," he reported,

"Don't suppose they're close enough for you to read the VIN," she'd turned to look out the back window as well, nervously pushing her glasses up her nose.

When the gun appeared out the passenger side Oliver was already moving, shoving Felicity down and covering her with his body. "Gun!" he shouted,

Digg cursed and swerved deliberately into the empty oncoming lane but Oliver could still hear the sound of bullets pinging by outside.

A dull crack behind their heads had Felicity shrieking, her hands clutched tight around his thigh. He tried to pull her in tighter, to make her a smaller target but her seatbelt kept her further away than he liked. If they wrecked however, he'd rather her be belted in.

"Glass is bulletproof," Digg supplied from the front, "They're not getting through there,"

"Stay down!" he ordered Felicity as he lifted his head and looked out the back again, the glass cracked and smashed but not broken.

"500 yards up on the right! There's a fire road. It connects over to another county road." her shaky voice said as she worked her tablet in her hunched over position.

Two seconds later they were thrown into the back of the seat as Digg jerked the wheel sharply to the right, barely slowing down. Tires squealed and the car rocked dangerously but remained upright.

The car immediately behind them didn't make the turn in time and Digg gunned it, the Bentley not designed for off roading but handling the ruts and mud better than he would have expected.

"How far to the other road, Felicity"

"Less than a mile. Take a left." she said with a shaky exhale that Oliver could feel as well as hear, the hand he kept on her shoulder squeezing once to reassure her.

Their unexpected turn had bought them some distance, but he knew they'd gain on them again.

"When do we reach civilization?"

Felicity's finger traced over the map, zooming out as she pushed up some to see the entire screen. "After we take a left...we've got to cross the river and then it's only a couple of miles to the interstate."

Oliver felt his stomach drop. If they could make it to the interstate the cars would most likely back off and not risk being exposed in public. It was a big if though that they could hold them off that long.

"I've got an extra piece in the center console" Digg instructed through gritted teeth and Oliver unbuckled and slid forward, quickly finding the gun.

Felicity made a small noise of protest as he checked the weapon and turned in the seat, but when the next volley of bullets could be heard smashing into the exterior of the car she looked up at him over slightly crooked glasses and said "Be careful,"

Oliver gave her a tight smile and a quick wink before he lowered the window and stuck the gun out, wasting no time in firing back at their pursuers. The rush of the wind drowned out most of the retort but he still heard her startled squeak at the sound of the gun being fired so close.

The car dropped back some and then Digg was telling them to hang on again. Oliver grabbed the door handle and laid another hand on Felicity to keep her braced as the car lurched from unpaved road to asphalt.

"Not much further now," Felicity announced, but the relief he felt was short lived as he looked ahead.

They were approaching a bridge, a much higher, much longer bridge than he expected. When Felicity said they had to cross the river he thought she meant something smaller. This bridge was at least one hundred yards long and thirty feet above a broad river. And heading towards them from the opposite direction was one of the cars he thought they'd lost.

"Shit," Digg muttered under his breath as he spotted it too,

They had just crossed onto the bridge when Oliver saw a gun appear in the drivers hand, except he wasn't aiming for the windshield, he was aiming lower.

Oliver realized what was happening a split second before it did. He had enough time to jerk Felicity upright and press a hand across her middle before there was a dip to the left and the Bentley made a wild swinging motion. Digg was silent as he fought for control and then the other front tire was shot out.

When the car from behind plowed into them Oliver was thrown forward. Felicity's sharp screams as they went airborne and sailed over the low guard rail echoed in his head. There was no time to panic though, and before the car hit the water he was already calculating how they were going to get out.

He remembered the open window too late and only managed to get it part way up before they struck the river. The impact threw him into the floorboards, as Felicity yelled his name and the air was forced from his lungs.

When he lifted his head with a groan he saw her holding a hand to her temple, looking dazed.

Digg was fighting with the air bag and trying to turn to see them, "You guys okay?"

"Get out!" Oliver ordered as he struggled to get onto the seat. Cold water began to pour in through the open window as they sank quickly.

"Felicity! Undo your belt and lets go!" he said to her, already turning towards the window,

"Oliver?" her voice was weak and confused and panic began to fill him as he turned to see her not even reaching for her seatbelt.

"What's wrong?" Digg asked as he struggled with his door, the force of the water against it making it an unmovable object.

"I'll get her, you get out," Oliver replied, now having to reach through waist high water to search for the belt release.

"Felicity! You need to listen to me. We have to swim out of here, okay?"

"Swim? Why is there water in the car?" her eyes drooped and it was then he noticed the long streak of red that trailed down the right side of her face.

He took precious seconds they didn't have and cupped her jaw with his hands, tilting her head so he could see the gash near her temple. She leaned heavily into his hand, eyes falling shut at his touch. He was only vaguely aware of Digg's attempts to force the door open in the front seat. The water was around their chest now and steadily climbing.

One loud roar and the drivers door was open, "Oliver!"

"I've got her, go!"

Heart pounding he felt for the belt release again, "Felicity! Stay with me, you have to wake up!"

She blinked sleepily and narrowed her eyes in confusion, water touching her chin making her jerk her head upright. The cold on her face seemed to have brought her back some and she looked at him in shock and then fear.

"Oliver!" her hands flailed for the seatbelt, knocking into his as she thrashed and tugged, trying to get out. "It's stuck! I can't! I...I can't get it!"

"You're okay! You have to stay calm!" he met her wild eyes and gave her the most reassuring look he could, "I'm going to get you out."

He put a finger under her chin and lifted it, "Keep your head up while I undo the belt," he tried to keep his voice even, but as he pushed on the release it wasn't letting go. He could feel her strain and stretch to keep her head above water, head tipping back even further as the water rose.

Taking a deep breath he dipped below the surface, ignoring the sting of the murky river water in his eyes as he tried to see what the problem was. He could see where the belt entered the buckle but no matter how many times he pressed on the release it wouldn't let go. His hand brushed something hard and heavy and he realized it was the gun.

With a gasp he broke the surface of the water and saw there was now only an inch or two before Felicity would be completely under water. She whimpered in fear and he put a hand on her jaw, pushing her head up more as she shot terrified eyes his direction.

"The belt is jammed, I'm going to shoot it open, you need to get as close to the door as possible. When the water gets too high take a deep breath and then we'll be out of here."

No time to waste he ducked down again and pushed a hand against her hip and thigh urging her to give him as much room as possible. Not even thinking about whether the gun would work properly or not underwater he aimed and fired.

The sound was dulled, but the muzzle flash was bright enough to cause spots to dance in front of his eyes as he shot up, hitting his head on the roof of the car. All he could see of Felicity was blonde hair floating around her and the top of her forehead, her glasses bobbing in front of him. A wave of terror washed over him as he grabbed at her, working the belt from around her arms and waist and pulling her head up for the last couple inches of air before the car was completely filled.

Her sputtering gasping inhale made his heart flip, "Breathe! Take a breath and then we're going out the window."

She coughed and nodded, straining to keep her eyes open as she pressed her nose and mouth into the roof of the car and took in as much air as she could.

As soon as her lips sealed shut he pulled her past him, glad to see her hands grab the edge of the glass and propel herself through the window. Her torso was out when suddenly she was jerked back, her legs almost kicking him as she began to twist and struggle.

He ran his hands up her legs to her waist, feeling around to where her fingers were scrabbling to try and unhook her belt from where it had been caught.

Teeth clenched he pushed her hands away and undid the small length of leather and shoved her the rest of the way out, watching as one lone heel was kicked away to float to the bottom of the river.

With effort he squeezed through the small space, not even noticing as his shoulders and back were scraped on all sides. He could just make out Felicity's form a few feet in front of him, her legs moving weakly as she tried to make it to the surface.

When her legs stopped moving altogether he put on a burst of speed, already reaching for her. His hands closed around her waist to see her hair floating almost etherally around her, arms limp and half raised at her sides, eyes shut.

His stomach dropped as he pulled her to him and made powerful kicks to get them above water as quickly as possible.

Lungs beginning to burn his head emerged and he was turning her in his arms, banding one arm around her middle to keep her secured to him as he treaded water.

"Felicity!" he shouted as he swiped wet hair out of her face, the sight of her blue tinged lips sending a spike of fear through him.

"Oliver!"

His head whipped to the side to see Digg nearing the shore.

Not sure if she was breathing or not he ignored the whine of static that began to fill his ears and began swimming for Digg.

He met them partway out and helped bring her onto the grassy bank, "I don't think she's breathing," Oliver bit out as he moved up towards her head, holding her face in his hands once again as Digg searched for a pulse.

"I'm not getting anything. Starting chest compressions."

Oliver's world narrowed down to the woman who lay before him. He noticed nothing else. Not the cool wind that swept over them, or his water laden clothes, or how pale her skin was. All he knew was he couldn't lose her. Not like this. Not ever.

Her lips were cold when he tilted her head back and covered his mouth with hers, giving her breath. Digg's muttered counts didn't register, the only thing going through his head was that she had to breathe, she had to live.

Digg paused and Oliver breathed into her again, heart hammering in his chest as there was no movement from her.

"Dammit, Felicity! Stay with me!" he shouted in desperation as Digg pressed on her chest again, not giving up.

He'd just leaned over to give her another breath when her back bowed and a gush of river water spurted from her mouth. He didn't care as it sprayed across his face, cupping her head and helping turn her on her side as she coughed and choked.

She was trying to talk and drag in much needed air at the same time but he smoothed a hand over her head and shushed her, pulling her back into his chest as she continued to spit out the water she'd swallowed.

Digg sat back heavily, wiping a hand over his face shaking his head slightly as he looked from the bridge to the river where they'd landed.

When the coughing began to subside she was limp in his arms and he finally allowed himself to let out a long shuddering breath. His hand couldn't seem to stop brushing damp hair from her face or tracing along her cheek, his thumb catching the corner of lips that had been much too blue only a few minutes earlier.

"You're okay," he murmured over and over again, not knowing if it was more for her or himself.

Slowly she raised one hand and wrapped it lightly around his wrist, squeezing weakly, but it was enough. He gathered her towards him, rolling to sit back into the bank of the river and brought her to rest against his chest.

His lips brushed across her temple and forehead, mindful of the cut she'd received, and he didn't miss the small gasp she let out at the contact, or the way it made her cough again.

Sure hands rubbed over her back until the fit had passed and she'd slumped into him, only the hand that reached up to lay against his neck letting him know she was still conscious.

He shut his eyes tight at the gesture, unable to keep from kissing her again; the bridge of her nose, her cheek, the corner of her eye. He'd almost lost her, and it had been enough of a shock for him to begin to consider that maybe his previous intentions to keep her away for her safety were stupid and misguided.

As they lay panting on the bank, Oliver held Felicity's shivering form tighter. A final gurgle of bubbles came from where the car had sank and Digg let out a long sigh, "I liked that car,"

Oliver reached out a hand and clapped him on the shoulder, "I'll buy you a new one,"


	3. Champagne, Water-Boarding, and the Long

**A/N: So this is apparently what happens when I tell ****hopedreamlovepray**** I want to write something fluffy when she's had two beers on an empty stomach. She puts a dirty, dirty plot bunny into my head. And I ran with it. **

**I know technically this happens in a limo, not a Bentley, but give it to me, okay? **

**Hope you enjoy. This is totally NSFW!**

* * *

"Felicity, I've been water-boarded before. Do you really think you can make me break?"

She gave him a slow smile, making sure the tip of her tongue snuck out to just run along the edge of her upper lip. Without taking her eyes off him, she addressed their driver who stood holding the back door to the limo open.

"Douglas, you got me what I wanted, right?" she asked breathily, causing Oliver's cock to twitch in response.

"Yes, Mrs. Queen I have the item that you requested." he replied with a careful, yet not completely hidden smug grin. Digg had stopped driving them years ago, especially to events that were for Oliver Queen, CEO.

"Excellent," she gave Oliver a wide, dazzling smile and spun on her heel, wobbling slightly, though she ineffectually batted his hand away when he tried to grasp her elbow for support. Instead she clung to the door frame and stared up at Douglas. "And you'll take the long way home, like we talked about?"

If she was trying to be quiet or subtle she was failing, but he didn't care. The gala was over, they were off superhero duty for the night, and he'd enjoyed watching the flush bloom across his wife's face as she tipped back glass after glass of champagne.

Before Douglas could speak Oliver scooped her up, careful to keep her head from bumping the side of the car as he slid her across the seat. "I'm sure whatever you've got planned doesn't need to be discussed in front of half of Starling City, dear." he leaned on the last word, loving how she laughed against him.

"Uh-oh, you only call me dear when you're being facetious." her giggles got the best of her, the high slit of her dress becoming rucked tight around her legs. He was grateful when the door slammed solidly behind them, the privacy divider already in place.

Felicity pushed a few loose strands of hair behind her ears, struggling to sit up straight, mumbling under her breath as she attempted to put her dress to rights. But when he reached a hand up to undo his bow tie she slapped his hand away. "No sir. That's mine."

With a raised eyebrow he let himself lean back against the smooth leather seat, "Does this have something to do with your plans?"

"My plans? You mean where I promised I'd have you begging before we got home?" she asked as she turned towards him, surety lighting her eyes filling him with equal parts need and concern because she had the same look she got when she attacked her computers, and she never lost.

"Yeah, those plans," he said calmly, willing to let her have her fun. "So what's my part in all of this exactly?"

She slipped closer until she was kneeling on the seat next to him, the dim interior lighting casting enough of a low golden glow so he could see her. He forced himself not to react when she ran one hand lightly along his lapel, cool fingertips just brushing his neck when she tugged the end of the bow tie, causing it to fall open. "You don't have to do anything but sit back and relax."

"Is that all?" his voice dropped lower, a surge of satisfaction going through him when he saw her breath hitch and her hands faltered as she opened the top few buttons of his shirt.

"You're terrible at relaxing, Oliver. This will be very difficult for you."

She shoved his suit jacket off his shoulders but instead of letting her struggle he leaned forward, making sure to steal a kiss as he took it off the rest of the way before throwing it to land on the seat opposite them.

"See, you can't even make it two minutes." she chided with a pout that he wanted to erase with his lips.

"I'll behave," he promised, but she merely shot him a look, rolling her eyes.

"I may be a little bit tipsy right now, but I'm not stupid."

He raised his hands to show his compliance, shifting against the back of the seat as he got comfortable.

For the next several minutes she focused on undoing his suspenders and cuff links, then the remaining tiny buttons of his shirt. When she tugged the hem from the waist of his pants he didn't say a word, just lifted his hips until she had freed the fabric all the way.

Biting her lower lip she grinned at him through her lashes, palms flattening along his abs, running them all along the exposed flesh. He couldn't help the small twitch he gave when her nails raked lightly over his ribs and then up to cut purposely across his nipples.

Having sex in the back of a car wasn't new. They'd done it before, but not like this, not where she had all the control and he was expected to sit passively. His fingers spasmed, wanting and needing to reach for her, but she'd told him not to do anything and he was trying to listen.

"Lose the shoes," she directed as she moved to the other side of the seat, twisting so her back was to him. Brows drawing together in confusion he did as she asked, even being so bold as to toe off his socks as well.

His cock already strained against the tight fit of his pants. He could only hope her next plan would be to take those off him as well.

When she turned back she held a bottle of chilled champagne in one hand and a full flute of the bubbly liquid in the other.

She took a small sip, giving him another enigmatic smile over the edge of the glass, pausing as they took a corner before she made her way back over to him. "Hold this please," she handed him the bottle then slid her fingers into the top of his pants right where his suspenders hooked. His hips jerked north, his grip on the wet bottle almost slipping.

A short chuckle escaped her lips, "Not yet," she admonished, giving his pants a firm pull, "You need to scooch down some."

Confused, horny, intrigued, and more than ready for her to get to whatever she had planned he did as she asked, slumping down until he was twisted sideways on the seat, one elbow propping him up in a half reclined position.

"Much better." she declared with a satisfied look that made him feel oddly proud.

Then she took another sip and promptly spilled half the glass over his chest.

A sharp hiss of air left his lungs, as he pulled back from the unexpected shock.

"Oops,"

There was no contrition in her tone though. Without another word she handed him the glass, "Here, we wouldn't want another mess. I'll clean this up."

Lust throbbed relentlessly through his veins as she slid to her knees on the floorboard and leaned forward, the heat of her tongue contrasting immediately with the cool liquid that was still rolling off his skin.

His jaw clanked shut so hard he heard his teeth meet, "Felicity-"

"I thought you said you'd been water-boarded, Oliver? This should be a piece of cake, right?"

As she spoke she slowly worked her way around his abs only using her mouth to make the champagne disappear. Every slow lap of her tongue had him calling on every bit of control he had to keep from dropping the bottle and putting his hands on her.

"It's your fault this is happening. You were using the salmon ladder last week, and you were just hanging there, abs all ripply and that crazy hip muscle that I love so much was just right there" her mouth found that exact muscle, fingers pulling the waist of his pants down some so she could nipp along the ridge, "And even though I can see it anytime I want, I just had this image of licking champagne off of you. I wondered if it would pool in all the divots and craters and…like right here."

He cursed low in his throat as she swirled her tongue just below his navel. "I was right."

She was trying to kill him. Not being able to touch her was worse than any torture he'd ever endured.

"Felicity…" her name came out strained, almost desperate, and he could have cared less.

Her head lifted, she'd somehow moved between his legs, one now resting along the seat, the other planted on the floor and the sight of her there was enough to send his eyes to the ceiling as he attempted to rein in some sort of composure.

"You're not giving in yet are you? There were other places I wanted to pour the champagne."

And with that she flicked open the button on his pants, palming his erection through the fine Italian fabric. He felt the delicate stem of the champagne glass begin to give, forcing him to loosen his grip.

His lips pressed together so tight they had to be white but he was determined to remain silent.

"Good," she whispered, the zipper going south and all he could do was breathe and raise his ass as she pulled pants and boxer briefs down together, the cool air of the car making his balls tighten.

She took her time pulling the clothes off one leg and then the other, while he tried to drag in one ragged breath after another. Her hands landed on the inside of each knee before slowly moving down towards his cock. He barely noticed when she slipped the champagne flute from his grasp.

At first it was one drop, just down the side of his cock, making him hiss and look down, but when just the tip of her pink tongue flicked out to catch it before it could reach the bottom he let his now free hand grip the edge of the seat. She'd already won. And she knew it.

He was hard and hot and ready, and when she poured the rest of the glass over him the noise that came from deep in his chest was almost unrecognizable.

Small licks began at his base, where most of the bubbly beverage had collected. She spent more than enough time making sure she got it all before she started to slowly work her way up his cock, sucking the sides, running her tongue along the underside, but never touching the tip.

He was aching, his cock dripping and it had nothing to do with the champagne. She ducked under and made her way up the other side, not missing a single drop. By the time she'd licked his entire cock clean except the head he was practically gasping, chest heaving. His entire world had narrowed down to doing whatever he had to do for her to give him relief.

She pulled back, licking her lips, "Oh look. I missed a spot."

Her head dropped and in an instant she'd sucked one of his balls into her mouth.

Oliver roared. Starlight bursting behind his eyes as he fought to not come right that second. A low heat filled his belly, his balls drawing tighter and tighter as she laved them, switching to the other, rolling it in her warm mouth.

She let go with a pop, going so far as to sit back on her heels, leaving him completely at her mercy. He fought for his legendary control, but found it had vanished. He'd been overrun by her and he couldn't be happier.

"Felicity…"

The wisest, most pleased grin he'd ever seen spread across her face, "Is there something you want to say?"

He fought only a moment longer, but when her small hand wrapped around him, just below the head of his cock he broke.

"Please!" he groaned.

Her mouth was around him before he'd finished. Hot, and wet, and perfect.

He was so close to the edge it only took her taking him down a few times before his fingers threaded into the fancy knot she'd put her hair into earlier that night. She hummed around him, grasping his hips as she took him deeper.

The tingle in his spine broke swiftly, racing up his spine. He got half her name out as warning but she just hollowed out her cheeks and sucked harder.

His mind blanked as pleasure roared through him. He tried to keep his pelvis from jerking into her mouth but it was impossible. She continued to suck until he was empty, his body limp and heavy.

She wiped a delicate finger across her lower lip as she sat back, hand bracing on his thigh as the car rocked forward and then back before the engine died.

"Told you I'd get you to break before we got home."

For a long moment he didn't have a comeback. She'd taken him totally by surprise. Even after years of being together she was still the center of his world and constantly amazed him.

Then he noticed her darkened eyes, the flush across her chest, the way her nipples were hard peaks beneath the thin material of her dress.

He sat up slowly, drawing her onto his lap. "You win, Mrs. Queen. But I think now it's my turn."

Her eyes widened, "Oh,"

His hand spanned her back, finding the zipper without searching, "There's still half a bottle of champagne left."


End file.
